


Vignettes in Space

by Linorien



Series: 007 Fest 2019 [10]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types, League of Legends
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, Choose Your Own Adventure April, Community: MI6 Cafe | mi6_cafe, Dragons, Horror, Mentions of Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 17:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19468261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linorien/pseuds/Linorien
Summary: Space seems great. Except for two little things Q had forgotten about.(A series of vignettes. Because apparently the muse had other ideas)





	1. Airlocks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [voculae (northernMagic)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/northernMagic/gifts).



> Anon prompt: spy/space AU  
> I'm not entirely sure what you meant but this, but I hope this is close enough.

Q regrets signing up for this mission. It had seemed like a good idea: he liked outer space, he had proposed many zero G experiments he was eager to carry out, and he had no family on Earth if anything were to go wrong. 

He had forgotten two things.

The first was that he was agoraphobic. It wasn’t an issue most of the time when he was in the science wing, working on his experiments or in his cabin, or even in the cafeteria when he could sit with his back to the windows. But when he was summoned to the bridge and they had that huge window covering nearly an entire wall? Yeah that was a bit not good. There was too much nothing. Especially when they were travelling between galaxies and there was only one or two quasars visible. Everything else was empty. 

The second thing was that Bill Tanner had also signed up for this mission. He was to be the chief science officer too. Just because he had more seniority. But come on. Philosophy wasn’t even a real science! 

“If you want him to get trapped on the other side of an airlock door, I can arrange that,” James muttered into his ear in passing. 

Q looked up. “Then you’d get in trouble,” he said. No matter how tempting it was, he couldn’t loose his best friend on this ship. Sure James was in security and he was a boffin, but they had the same snark. And Q needed someone to test things on EVAs. 

“I’ll arrange the patrols, you take care of the cameras, no one would know.” He shrugged. “You could even modify his logs and let people think it was suicide.”

Q gaped. “I hate him, but I know he has family and I won’t do that to them.”

Bond shook his head. “You’re too nice. Anyway, Ra’Kell wanted me to tell you your tardigrades got loose again or something. Should I be concerned?”

“Not if I get down there fast.” He sprinted away. “Thanks!”


	2. Lightning Bug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um so yeah. This was a one shot. But then I had another idea. So here we are. I'll keep it marked as complete since it still feels complete, but I guess we'll see.
> 
> Also this fills the anon prompt asking for a Firefly AU. This is based on the episode Mrs Reynolds.

It was a remote outpost. Primarily locals, just a couple settlers and their families. It wasn’t a common place for ships to stop, but they had stopped there for some medical supplies. And if some of the security personnel mentioned that it was a good spot for a night long party.

And it was. They drank well, danced wildly, and slept all through the next day. Apparently that was one of the more understandable customs on this planet. Party hard, sleep long. It helped that the night was a long 21 hours, rather than the 14 hour standard on starships. 

The custom that did not know about was the marriage one. It came about thus. 

They were loading the ship back up the next day and there was a woman, a local, with a trunk all packed up waiting in line. Bond stopped her at the ramp. “Excuse me, ma’am. Authorised personnel only beyond this point.”

She looked up at him and her scaley frill flared. “I do believe family count as authorised personnel,” she said primly. 

Bond squinted at her. “You’re not related to any of the crew members.”

“Correct.” She lifted her chin. “I am Captain Mal’s wife.”

Needless to say, she was escorted to the captain and made to explain. Bond sat her down at a table with M, Ms Moneypenny, Camille, and himself. “M, sir, this woman claims to be your wife.”

M looked at her and shook his head. “I remember her from the party, but only vaguely. I’d think I’d remember a wedding ceremony.”

“That’s very simple then. Ma’am, you are not permitted aboard this vessel.” Bond rose to escort her off. 

“No! We got married last night!” She protested. 

“Explain.”

“You drank of my milk and slept in my home. You are my wife.” She was very matter of fact. 

M was having none of it. If he was going to be marrying anyone, it would be the ship. Not technically a person, but as good as to him. “I did no such thing.”

“Sir,” Camille interrupts. “She did bring you a drink last night. It showed up as simple coffee on the register but the milk was not as processed. I didn’t think anything of it since we’re on an outpost planet.”

M looked at the woman, skin of scales, rough brown skirt and bare chest. He tried not to let his eyes wander improperly. “You’re telling me the milk was, well, direct from the source?”

“The milk was from my breasts. Yes.”

“Do you normally serve guests your milk?” Ms Moneypenny asked. 

“If they’re fine looking men, yes.” Now she seemed to be genuinely puzzled by their questions. Her frill had deflated, but it was still raised off her neck. 

Ms Moneypenny shook her head. “I’m sorry sir, but I believe you have unknowingly wed this woman.”

M had a fury burning in his eyes though his voice was steady. “And you didn’t warn me of this ahead of time!” 

“Sir. My job is communications officer. I gave you a rundown of the important customs and peculiarities of this planet but unless you would like a three year course, I cannot teach you everything you might want to know about a planet. This is a risk you take on every planet you land on.”

Ultimately, they had to take her on board. She would travel with them. At least until they found out how to get a divorce in Lepozenon culture.


	3. Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here there be dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For voc:

“I’m a physicist, not a biologist!” Q protested. 

“I don’t care, Q,” the captain snapped back over the intercom. “Tanner is on mandatory rest and you’re the most experienced. Besides,” he continued in a gentler voice, a hint of confusion colouring the commanding tone. “It might be more in the realm of physics than biology.”

Now that got Q interested. “I’ll be right there, sir.” He threw on his shirt and poured the rest of his morning tea into a thermos. He took a fortifying sip. Maybe, just maybe, if he proved his worth in this case, M would see that he was a better fit for chief science officer. They were on their way to a Federation controlled planet. Perhaps Tanner could be persuaded to take a position on another ship. 

The door to the bridge slid open and Q walked confidently forward to stand at Tanner’s usual spot. “What seems to be the issue, sir?”

Mallory nodded at the big view screen in the front of the room. At first look it just looked like explosions of light. But then he realised, it was a dragon. A dragon that was made of and was creating stars. It turned its burning eyes on their ship and opened its mouth. 

Soundwaves rocked the ship. Q gripped the railing to stay upright. 

“Wait one click,” Mrs Moneypenny said, swiveling her chair back to her console and tapping quickly. “That’s not a roar. That’s celestial.”

Q raised and eyebrow and promptly started adjusting variables in his own console. He had heard legends of a dragon-shaped celestial. But he thought they were just legends to teach lessons to the newer star-faring races. Something to remind them that just because they had achieved warp drive, did not mean they understood everything in the universe. 

“Can we communicate with it?” Captain Mallory asked. 

“Yes, sir, I believe we can.”

“Good. Tell it, we wish it no harm.”

Q spoke quickly. “I believe this is the celestial who goes by Aurelion Sol. He/Him pronouns.”

Mrs Moneypenny looked him in the eye and Q tried his best to convey all the confidence he had and a bit more to spare. She nodded and spoke to the computer, which translated and transmitted the message. “Greetings, Aurelion Sol. This is the UFV Intrepid. We wish you no harm. Our goal is simply exploration.”

They watched the dragon cock his head when the message was sent, and then turn back to look at their ship. The large, glowing, purple head snaked forward. Large blue stars inspected their vessel. Q asked the computer to tell him the composition of the horned crown on his head. 

He pulled his head back and replied. The soundwaves of the deep voice still boomed through the frame of the ship, but this time they could all understand. “You have strayed far but learned much already. You have impressed me; a rare feat. For that, you can stay and witness the life cycle of a brown dwarf, then you must leave this quadrant.”

Q’s mouth dropped open slightly. A brown dwarf was expected to live at least 15 billion years. Older than the age of the universe. To witness the entire lifecycle? “Yes,” he whispered. Then he repeated himself. “Yes. We accept the offer.” At the last moment, he looked at M to make it sound like more of a question. 

M nodded. “Tell him we are humbled and honoured to accept his offer.”

Mrs Moneypenny repeated in a more formal tone. 

Aurelion Sol seemed to chuckle. The stars inside him twinkled faster and his outline pulsated. “Your scientist burns bright. Come closer and watch me do my best work.”


	4. Haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you be haunted in outer space? In the experience of one Chief Science Officer Bill Tanner, it certainly seemed so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 7 on the Choose Your Own Adventure April map: Mt Shinmoedake: Try a genre that is new to you. I've written both scifi and horror, but not both in one.  
> Tropes used: It won't turn off, space madness, and a touch of hyperspace is a scary place.

Could you be haunted in outer space?

Lore would say no. Ghosts lingered in the places they died and the only people who had died on the  _ Intrepid _ had died peacefully in med-bay. He didn’t think they would suddenly haunt the ship. 

Science would also say no. His psychological training had taught him that hauntings were simply the sign of undiagnosed trauma. Guilt, denial of a death, or paranoia. He didn’t think that was the case here. 

But he had to figure it out soon or else his short sick leave might be extended indefinitely. 

It had started three weeks ago with the undeniable feeling that he was being watched. Observed. 

“Bill?” He nearly jumped out of his skin as Wen’ya addressed him. 

“Hey, sorry. What can I help you with?”

She looked at him, her pupils narrowing. “Is everything alright?”

He shook his head dismissively. “Didn’t sleep well,” he lied. 

The feeling only got worse and he thought he saw eyes in the windows of the ship. Glowing green eyes, pulsing with electrical light, never blinking, only fading in and out of perception. He closed the blinds in his cabin but he couldn’t get rid of the feeling when he was stationed on the bridge. 

Tingles down his spine only intensified the feeling. 

Then it stopped. But that made it worse. Now there was the feeling of anticipation. What happened when the observer had collected enough data? He grew jumpier by the hour. 

The humming began the next day. He couldn’t say for sure when. It was quiet at first and he thought it was only in his mind. After all, who else would know that little jingle from the local shoe store in the town where he grew up? It was an earworm though. 

At first he though it strange that he had suddenly remembered it and wondered idly what had triggered the connection, but then it kept repeating, repeating. Changing slightly too. It sounded sinister now. And it would not go away.

No one else could hear it. And it wasn’t coming from anyone’s quarters. It followed him. Invaded his mind. He started playing music at night to drown it out but somehow the quiet jingle was still louder. 

Then it became worse. Suddenly his electronics acted up. 

His tablet would turn on randomly and show a repeating slideshow of photos from his childhood. Some of which had definitely not been loaded onto the device. 

His audio system read poetry in Greek. He had to ask Ms Moneypenny what language it was. It sounded harsh to his ears. Especially in the middle of the night when he had been sleeping. 

He turned them off. They kept playing. He took out the battery. They kept playing. He gave them to Q fix, but he could find nothing wrong with them. 

That was when he applied for a week of rest. Okay. applied was a loose term. The captain had said he noticed he wasn’t alert as usual and strongly suggested he take a week to himself. They would be travelling through interstellar space for that time before making the jump through wormhole 58/pink.eta in order to travel to the planet Corsay. It should be a quiet week and he would need Bill when they arrived at their destination. 

So he did. But it was worse. Now he had nothing to distract him from the humming all day, the poetry at night, and the memories flashing across his screen. And it only got worse. 

Walking the halls, the screens in the halls would sometimes show him his family. Or he thought they did. It always flashed when he walked past and when he turned back to look it was a simple scroll of the daily activities. 

He tried calling his family, hoping that would help. He enjoyed the time speaking to them even though the lag was longer than usual. But even his wife could sense that he was distracted. She ordered him to get more sleep and asked that he request shore leave if it didn’t help. He didn’t want to tell her that they would be gone longer than expected from the closed starfleet base to his home planet. 

Two hours later, his tablet came to life with the request form for shore leave already open. He had not searched for it. 

Frustrated, he instead asked if Q could turn off all wireless connectivity to his quarters. 

“I think there’s a subsystem built in from the initial build for troubleshooting so I should be able to isolate you,” he replied, making a note on his computer in his lab. “It’s an unusual request, Bill. May I ask why?”

“I’m trying to really relax this week and I’m having trouble stopping myself from working. This might force me to finish that book I’ve been slowly reading for four months now.”

Q gave a small smile. “I know what you mean. I still haven’t started the one Berries gave me for Candlenights two years ago. I’ve been avoiding being caught alone in a room with them. I’ll see about getting your quarters disconnected. You should notice when it happens.”

“Thank you.”

Two hours later his lights pulsed once and his music shut off. He opened his tablet and nothing would load. No access to all his photos which were automatically kept in the cloud. He deleted all local copies of music and audiobooks from his audio device. He poured himself a finger of whisky and sighed. It would be a quiet night. 

Except it wasn’t. The poetry came back, this time a blend of Greek and English. With the translation, he could now hear that it was a poem of a child calling out for their lost father. Then one of a person lost in the darkness. He threw the device against the wall and still it played. He stuffed it under a couch cushion, then finally chucked it out into the corridor, watching it spin across the floor with mad glee. It would get found by someone and brought to the lost and found. But no one would report it missing. It could spout poetry at nothing. 

But back inside his quarters, the voice resumed reading. 

He went back to Q the next day, checking that he really was disconnected and the boffin had shown him that yes, he was. He even called up to his quarters and got the system unavailable message. 

The one moment of peace he had was in the hyperspace of the wormhole. It required a shipwide shutdown of any system that was not navigation. You held your breath in hyperspace because touching anything was potentially catastrophic. You moved as little as you could for the three seconds or twenty years it took to travel between. The time dilation was strange. Your heartbeat slowed and your vision blurred to a faded grey. It felt like forever and yet next to no time passed. And in that time, Bill heard no notes of a jingle, heard no lines of poetry, saw no pictures of loved ones left planetside. 

Yet the exit returned it all and he screamed. Alone in his quarters he wept for the moment of peace that he craved and the return of the living nightmare growing worse by the day.

* * *

“Has he filled out the shore leave request yet?”

“No, he’s more stubborn than I thought. I’ll have to do something else.”


End file.
